


It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

by phoenixnz



Series: Smallville Christmas [7]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:02:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27971264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixnz/pseuds/phoenixnz
Summary: Martha wanted a collection of Christmas tree ornaments. What she got was so much more.
Relationships: Clark Kent & Jonathan Kent & Martha Kent
Series: Smallville Christmas [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2049984
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the fanfic prompt, decorating the Christmas tree.

1982

She could hear the soft sounds of a classic Christmas song as she descended the stairs. The bottom step creaked a little as she stepped on it and he came over.

“Let me take that, sweetheart,” he said. He took the box from her hands and she joined him beside the pine Christmas tree. 

She smiled softly at him. This was their first Christmas as a married couple. He wanted to start their own tradition, buying a bauble for each year to hang on the tree. 

In the box was the collection of decorations the Kents had collected for years. Some were store bought, but Jonathan’s mother had claimed the most precious ones of all were the ones Jonathan had made in grade school. 

She watched as he pulled out what was clearly meant to be a lantern. It had obviously been made by a child as it was lopsided and odd colours. The blond farmer grinned.

“I made this for my mom when I was in third grade. She made out like it was the best Christmas gift she’d ever received.”

Martha grinned back at her husband. She looked forward to the day when she would pull out one her own child had made. She promised herself that no matter how bad it looked, she would gush over it as if it was made of gold. 

1983

They had been a little busy that year. The farm had not been doing so well and they’d been working hard to ensure that what little finances they had went towards keeping it operating. Martha had sworn she was going to start the little collection of a Christmas bauble every year but they just didn’t have the money. 

They at least were able to get a Christmas tree and decorated it with the same ones from last year. As Martha took out the star, she closed her eyes briefly and made a wish before handing it to her husband. She didn’t know if it would work, but it at least made her feel better about things. 

1984

They didn’t feel like celebrating Christmas that year. It just didn’t seem right. Or fair. Martha had had devastating news from her doctor and while she swore one day they would have happy news again, she couldn’t help feeling depressed. Even her mother-in-law, Jessica, couldn’t lift the melancholy atmosphere of the house. 

1985

There was no tree that year. No children’s laughter to fill the house. Martha tried to hide her tears on Christmas morning, but Jonathan could always read her like a book. He held her close and promised her that she would get her wish one day. 

1986

Martha did her best to ignore Christmas. The stores were lavishly decorated and everywhere she went were reminders. Reminders that she still didn’t have the wish she had made three years earlier.

1987

Jonathan never said anything. The word Christmas was never even uttered. He was quieter and quieter these days. Martha sometimes wondered if he wished he had married someone like Nell Potter. She had no doubt that her husband’s ex-girlfriend would have made him a father. 

1988

It was the worst year yet. Jessica, Jonathan’s mother, had died in March from cancer. They treated Christmas as if it was just another day. People in town seemed to walk on eggshells around them. As a couple, they tended to keep to themselves anyway and without Jessica’s presence, they just seemed to become more isolated.

1989

It was a miracle. The little boy seemed to give Jonathan a new lease on life and he looked forward to Christmas with such excitement. Almost like a kid in a candy store. Little Clark didn’t seem to understand what all the fuss was about, but that was okay.

Martha loved to watch the two of them as they decorated the tree. Well, Jonathan, mostly, but he would sometimes hand Clark a Christmas bauble and show him how to put it on the tree.

On Christmas Eve, Martha was in Fordman’s department store when she saw a tiny angel made out of ceramic. She decided to buy it, thinking it would be a great decoration for the tree. For Clark’s first tree. 

Jonathan seemed puzzled. “But we’ve already decorated the tree,” he said.

“I know, but I saw this and I thought about our own little miracle. It just felt right.”

He kissed her forehead. “I know, sweetheart.” They both looked at the little boy playing with a toy truck, just like the big one Daddy drove. He was happily oblivious. 

1990

Martha again found a ceramic ornament that was perfect for the tree. This year it was a little reindeer. Clark, now that he understood English, seemed to talk a mile a minute and chattered on about the little reindeer, which he decided to call Rudolph, after his favourite Christmas carol. He would warble along to the song, despite the fact he couldn’t sing in tune. Martha had to fight not to laugh as he got some of the words wrong, loving the sound of her child’s voice. 

Clark and his father had already established what was going to be a tradition. The two of them, together, decorating the tree while Martha baked cookies and a Christmas cake to be shared at the farmers’ co-op meeting in Granville. 

Since he wasn’t very tall, Clark had to be lifted to put the star on the top of the tree. It was an important job to the three-year-old.

“Mommy!”

She looked up. “What is it, baby?”

“You have to make a wish, Mommy. The song says so.”

They’d recently been watching Disney movies and Clark loved When You Wish Upon A Star.

She went over to them, wiping her flour-covered hands on her apron.

“But I already got my wish, baby,” she said, taking him as he reached for a hug.

“You did? What was it?”

“You.”

1991

“Mommy, we should get this one.”

They were shopping in Fordman’s. Martha had taken Clark to look at all the Christmas goodies while Jonathan had gone to the toy department to make the final payment on the toys they’d put on layaway for Clark.

The four-year-old was pointing to a ceramic Santa ornament. It had a big belly and long white beard.

“You like that one, Clark?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“All right, baby. We’ll get that one.”

Once home, Clark carefully took the ornament and hung it on the tree branches. 

1992

Five-year-old Clark was upset. He had accidentally broken the new ornament Martha had bought for the Christmas tree. She tried to placate him but it was clear he felt horribly guilty. 

“Oh, sweetie, it’s okay,” she said, hugging him. “It was just an accident.” It hadn’t been very expensive but that was clearly not the point. Clark thought he had done something terrible. 

“I’ll tell you what. Tomorrow, you and I will go see Santa in town and you can tell him all about it. I bet Santa will understand.”

“No, he won’t. And I’ll get a lump of coal in my stocking.”

“Now who told you that?”

“Pete,” he said, still pouting and rubbing his eyes. Pete Ross and Clark had been friends since they’d met at the playground two years earlier. The youngest Ross boy had three older brothers. 

“You know, Pete only hears about things like this from his brothers, and older boys always say things that aren’t true,” she said, mentally crossing her fingers. She figured a white lie wouldn’t hurt. 

“Really?” he asked, sounding hopeful.

“Really.”

1993

“Mommy, look what I made in school.”

She took the little pine cone. Clark had glued glitter on it. She assumed that was supposed to look like snow. He had made a bit of a mess of it but she didn’t care. It was the first Christmas ornament he’d made and she was going to tell him it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. There was no way she was going to criticise a six-year-old's efforts.

“It’s beautiful, sweetie. Let’s go hang it on the tree.”

“You really like it, Mom?”

“I love it, baby.”

She took his hand and led him over to the tree where they hung the pine cone together. 

1994

Clark’s skills at making Christmas decorations had got much better in the past year. His art teacher had hit on the idea of the children making stars out of clay. Clark had clearly worked hard, forming the shape and painting the clay before it was fired. He’d then decorated it with glitter and written ‘Kent Family Christmas 1994’ on it. 

The star was hung right next to the pine cone from the year before. 

1995

Clark was eight. As far as his friends were concerned, he was much too old to be making Christmas ornaments for his mother, but he loved making her happy. She’d been so happy the year before, and the year before that when he’d presented her with his handiwork. 

This year, he had enlisted his father to help him get a glass ball and red and gold paint. He’d done his best to copy pictures from a book so it would at least look like some of the other ornaments they hung on the tree. 

He was pleased with his handiwork when it was finished. 

“Looking good, son,” his dad said. “Are you going to give it to your mom?”

“I’m gonna hang it on the tree,” he said. “So she’ll get a surprise when she sees it.”

His dad tousled his hair. “Good job, son.”

She was definitely surprised. 

1996

Clark hadn’t had time to make something that year. His dad had started giving him chores to do on the farm. Sometimes they worked side by side, which was cool. They always had the best chats when they were working. 

Clark looked up to his father. He felt his father was the wisest man he’d ever met. Of course, most kids probably thought that about their dad, but Clark really did think his father knew everything. 

Thanks to the chores, he had an allowance to spend. He knew his mom had been collecting tree ornaments for a few years and he wanted to find something special. He’d gone to Fordman’s to look at their collection but so far nothing had really caught his eye. 

They had everything, from tiny wreaths with amazing detail to little trees. 

“Hi, Clark.”

He looked around and blushed. “Hi, Lana,” he said shyly. The girl lived about a mile away from the farm but other than school, they didn’t really have a lot to do with each other. 

“What are you shopping for?”

“I’m trying to find a Christmas ornament for our tree.” He told her about his mother’s collection.

Lana pointed out a miniature wreath. It was finely detailed, with holly berries. But it still wasn’t right. 

“What about that?” Lana asked.

Clark saw what she was pointing at. A little gingerbread house, decorated with mini candy canes and gum drops. 

He was sure his mom would love it.

1997

Clark was in the barn, chatting with Earl. He and Clark’s dad were friends. 

“I don’t know what to do,” he said.

Earl sat on the couch in the loft. Clark’s dad had recently converted the hayloft into a little study area for Clark, who was now in fifth grade. The older man was doing something with a piece of wood that Clark couldn’t see.

He’d told his friend about the little collection of ornaments. 

“Why don’t you make something?” Earl asked.

“Like what? I’m not that good at stuff.”

“Sure you are,” the other man said. “You help your dad on the farm.”

“But that’s … you know, work. I made a star for my mom once. She liked it.”

“Well, there you go. Why don’t you do that?”

“I can’t make her another star!” He frowned. Earl was carving into the wood. “What’s that?”

Earl looked at him. “This? Just a little something I’m making for Belinda.” He’d been dating a woman and had recently begun talking about getting married. 

Clark hit on an idea. “Can you teach me how to do that?” he asked.

“Got something in mind?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” 

Clark couldn’t wait to see his mom’s face when she saw what he’d carved for her. A miniature Christmas tree, painted in green, with sparkly detail. 

She exclaimed in delight when he handed it to her. 

“Oh, my goodness, Clark. This is beautiful.”

“I carved it for you,” he said. “Well, Earl helped. A lot.”

She nodded, looking over the ornament. “What a thoughtful gift, Clark.” She hugged him. 

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” he said.

**Author's Note:**

> I did think of continuing on with every Christmas right up until post canon, but I think it might have been going overboard if I did. So I settled for the early Christmases up until Clark is ten.


End file.
